


Kiss me in the rhythm of tango

by GrantaireandHisBottle



Series: Two Madmen and the blue Box [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Tango, The Beatles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 14:44:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrantaireandHisBottle/pseuds/GrantaireandHisBottle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, post EoT</p><p>The Doctor is fixing his TARDIS, while singing the Beatles, which annoys The Master, who has different music tastes. They dance, because they are fighting an endless war far accross the Universe. Just because they are the best arch enemies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss me in the rhythm of tango

The Doctor’s red Converse is the only visible part of the Time Lord, who is currently lying under the TARDIS’s console. The Time Lord himself is checking the average pressure of the blue stabilizers. Those stabilizers are needed to the normal function of the phone inside the TARDIS. The Doctor, after noticing the new Earth technology, called Skype, has decided to create something like that for himself. 

He is lying on the floor, whistling the tune together with the gramophone record of the Beatles. “I wanna hold your hand” has been playing for the fourth time. And it seems absolutely fine for the Doctor. 

The Master on the other hand, sitting on the other side of the TARDIS, reading a handwriting of Conan Doyle’s “The Reichenbach Fall”, rolls his eyes, when the sound of the Doctor’s voice, singing flat, has reached his ears. 

Two month ago, the Time Lords tried to come back and reborn the Gallifrey, obviously ending up failing completely, because of the Doctor’s idiotical sacrifice. The Master was captured in TARDIS after both of them nearly died. Of course he thought of the escape plans. Not once or twice, much more times, but the simple truth stopped him every time. He has no place to go. He is alone. The Doctor is still his arch enemy and is annoying as hell, with his silly grin, wild hair, absolutely-completely-utterly-ridiculously not matching outfit, with his love to all living creature on top. But the Master is trying to ignore the fact that most of the time they do have lots of fun. Playing chess, teasing the Doctor, ruining his plans in saving lovely aliens and silly Oods and scaring him in the dark corridors of the TARDIS(now she has light even in the smallest of rooms with a great amount of old comisc).

But right now, when the Doctor has started singing “I wanna hold your hand” for the fourth time, Master jerkily stands up, puts the book on the bed and walks to the console room. 

“There are two possibilities why you are singing this.” The Master sits on the chair in front of the console, watching the down part of the Doctor’s body. The whistle under the console has become a bit quieter. “First one: the hit you’ve received on the Moldasa Star, was really that hard and because of the brain damage you are completely unaware of the fact that you are singing the same song for the fourth time in an awful voice.” The Doctor, not stopping whistling the tune, crosses his legs as the Master continues. “Even Daleks perform their battle song better. Or. You want to say how deeply you are in love with me and how much you want to hold my hand.” He tilts his heads. “Maybe this is a some sort of euphemism and you are actually talking about…”

“Master!!” The thin figure of the Time Lord appears from the console. The stare at each other, one sitting on the chair with a completely not caring gaze and on the face of the second has become visible a very interesting hint of scarlet. “It’s the Beatles! They are brilliant! Lovely people, we’ve played golf several times just at the time, when this song was recorded.”

“And you are telling me this because…”

“Because this song is awesome!”

“Sure.” The Master yawns.

“Oh, come on, don’t be so…Master-ish.” The Doctor smiles widely and collapse near another Time Lord. “Let’s sing “Yesterday” or…”

“I have a better idea.” In Master’s hands Doctor suddenly notices his own screwdriver, which has been lying in his pocket a second ago.

“Wha_”

The Master points the sonic on the old-fashioned gramophone, changing the sounds. 

“Oi, give that back!” the Doctor protests, jumping on his feet. The Master only waves his hand, not turning his head, listening closely to the music. The Doctor sighs and crosses his arms on his chest.

The pleased smile touched the pale lips of the Master, as the sounds of the violin and piano entwine together in the tango melody. Lyric, yet passionate, melodic, but dramatic on the corners and high notes. 

The Doctor’s eyes widen. “Por Una Cabeza, is it?”

Master’s eyebrows rise up. “I am surprised.” His gaze slowly stops on Doctor’s eyes and second later the Master grabs his tie and pulls him closer.

“What? Master, wait!!”

One Time Lord drags another one to the more or less open space rather offhandedly.

“Are you planning to dance with me?!” the Doctor stumbles over his own feet.

The Master silently puts the Doctor’s left hand on his shoulder, while he takes the right on in his own, pushing the thin figure closer.

 

“Why am I dancing a woman’s part?” the Doctor complains with pink shade on his cheekbones.

 

“Do I really need to explain, Doctor? Now, shut up and don’t you dare to step on my feet.”

The violin starts its solo, making charming and lights sounds, like the feeling of the first really warm spring evening on the face. The strange pair of the Time Lords make four steps forward, the Doctor is walking backwards, while the Master is leading them. The piano joins violin and the Doctor observes the face of his favorite enemy. The Master isn’t looking at him at all. He dances with his eyes closed, but the pleasure he receives from the music is hardly hidden on his face.

 

“You are looking at me, like if I was not just dancing, but were saving little kittens on a pink fluffy tree.” The Master says sharply as the contrabass sings dramatically. They move around the console room graciously, but the Doctor feels himself a bit uncomfortable. He can’t understand what is exactly strange in this situation: Master dancing peacefully with him or the fact that he, Doctor, rather enjoy the feeling of the rhythm, the warmth of the other hand upon his…

“Hey!!?!”

 

The Master suddenly pulls the Doctor down, making him almost falling on his back. But he has been jerkily pulled back as the violin and the piano make a beautiful accent. Master spins the Doctor around, at last looking at his face. The next second, when he pulls the Doctor closer to himself, they have been looking at each other’s eyes, nearly drowning in the power of the black spots of the pupils. The contrabass emphasizes their gazes. The music becomes faster and they dance faster, losing the feeling of the time and space around them. Stepping around each other, never breaking the eye contact, their own hearts accompany the tango. The next moment, they are the one person, cheek to cheek, hot breathing, tickling the skin, a hand, holding a hand and never ending rhythm of the tango. They smile and then laugh as they bodies collide in the movements of the dance. And then their steps and touches become slower and more gentle as the music slowly reaches its lyrics end. Their bodies slowly freeze in the gracious pose: the Master holding the Doctor, the dim lights in their eyes and a bit knocked breath. 

 

The music dies, making the last passionate accord and both of the Time Lords remain still for some moments. Or minutes. The TARDIS can’t say for sure.

 

But then a rather silly grin appears on the face of the Doctor, making Master rolling his eyes once again, but he smiles too. 

“Much better then your bloody Beatles.” The Master says, walking to the chair in front of the console. The Doctor hesitates, but then grabs the hand of his enemy. The first one stops and with hidden curiosity glances at the fingers on his palm. 

 

“What is it, Doctor, you want some more?” his mocking tone makes Doctor bite his bottom lip.

 

“Yes, actually.”

 

The Master slowly turns around. “Interesting.” He pulls the Doctor closer once again. Nearly touching his lips, he waits, making those red lips plead, he teases with little touches, leaving those lips with a ghost of the kiss, making these lips thirsty. And when he opens his eyes he burst with giggles, because the face of the Doctor is just priceless. Half of the second later, the Doctor angrily looks at the face in front of him. And he wipes off that mocking laugh with the fierce kiss, losing his fingers in the soft blond hair, making the other Time Lord gasping for the air, enjoying the fact the Master’s pupils have been widen. 

 

The TARDIS has no idea how long has been they kissing, winning, defeating, caring and finding each other. Some time later, Master says, licking his lips, which save the scent of the Doctor. “Very interesting, Doctor.”


End file.
